


a million and one shards

by fernnette



Series: big, gay love: buddie style [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angry Evan "Buck" Buckley, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), no beta we die like that girl hen hit with her ambulance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29482293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fernnette/pseuds/fernnette
Summary: Eddie swallows thickly, a certain level of discomfort reaching its threshold within him, “I love you, Evan Buckley. Big, gay love.”orthe one i’ve dubbed angry!buck but kinda turned into more of a soft!eddie fic
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: big, gay love: buddie style [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167302
Comments: 22
Kudos: 318





	a million and one shards

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be posted last week right after 404, but y’all know how i am by this point... plus this is totally different than what i intended 
> 
> so enjoy it after 405 because i am officially dead right after it i post this okay

Eddie is standing at the counter chopping carrots for Christopher’s lunches this week when the front door slams open and shut within seconds of each other then stomping, honest to god stomping, as Buck rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Uh, hi?” Eddie greets, brow furrowing at Buck’s angry scowl.

Buck showing up unannounced at Eddie’s home is not unusual. In fact, most of the time that’s how it happens because well, this is sort of Buck’s home, too. Buck just shows up and spends the day helping Eddie around the house or chatting with him as he helps Christopher with his homework or even falling asleep on the couch while Christopher uses his big, gargantuan sized body as a racetrack. And Buck needs it. Eddie knows this. That’s why he never complains or asks him to leave. Buck needs a safe place, somewhere he feels comfortable enough to let his guard down, and Eddie likes, actually he loves, being that for Buck.

He likes knowing that at the end of the day, whether it’s good, bad, the worst, the best, Buck finds comfort in being with him and Chris in his home doing the simplest mundane things.

The unusual part is the way Buck entered his home. Surprisingly enough, most of the time Buck announces himself as soon as he opens the door, making a joke about Eddie being decent or teasingly yelling out “honey, I’m home”. It’s funny. They laugh about it then go about their business. Buck will seek out Christopher while Eddie finishes whatever task he was in the middle of while pining painfully for the man across the hall making his son giggle.

Unrequited love is hard. It’s hard on his mind, body, and soul, and not to sound like a walking ball of corn and cheese dip, but it makes other things hard, too, if you catch his drift.

Today though Buck slammed the door. Strike one on the metaphorical sheet Eddie is keeping. Strike two comes when Buck decides to clomp around his kitchen, slamming cabinets and wreaking very dramatic havoc while his son is sleeping on the other side of the house.

“Hey, Chris is sleeping, man,” Eddie scolds, and Buck has the grace to look chastised for a moment. Eddie wipes his hands off on the towel thrown carelessly on his counter as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Buck snorts, “Am I okay?” Buck opens one of the cupboards, trailing a finger over the mugs and glasses there. His face does this confusing little thing where he looks sarcastically angry and intrigued at the same time. “Hm, I wonder… Would you be okay if you just yelled at your parents? Embarrassed yourself in front of your sister, a coworker, and your roommate?”

“Uh,” Eddie flounders for a moment, caught off guard by the venom in Buck’s words.

“So, no. Let’s just say no. I am not okay,” Buck says as he grabs a glass from the cupboard and slams it closed, the glasses clinking together. Buck grimaces for just a moment before it smooths back into that angry scowl.

Then Buck spins around toward the fridge, like he’s done a million times, and drops the glass. Just slides right from his fingertips, scattering into millions of shards all around them. Eddie startles backward, hip hitting the edge of the counter. Pain ricochets throughout his body, and he holds his side, muttering a stream of low curses as he squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, Buck is standing in the same spot as before, staring down at the mess around them.

“Strike three,” Eddie whispers to himself. He steps forward, glass crunching underneath his shoes, and he grabs Buck by the arm, dragging him into the hallway where he pushes him against the wall a little harder than intended.

Buck snarls at him, “What the hell, Eddie?”

“Get yourself together,” he growls, finger hitting Buck’s chest with a jab. “You can be mad at your parents. You can be mad at Maddie and Chim and the little old lady that lives next to you. But this is my house. My son is here, Buck. You don’t get to take your frustrations out on me and mine.”

Buck stares at him, tension still thrumming throughout his body. His shoulders are tense. His face is still pulled into that stupidly attractive frown that Eddie wants to hate so badly but can’t. He’s not sure what he expected after his little speech. What? That he’d drag him into the hallway and growl at him, straighten him up that way? Eddie knows better than to assume a few words will help Buck.

After a few more moments of staring at each other, Buck is still tense, and if Eddie had to guess, he’s sure Buck is feeling guilt now for barging into Eddie’s home like he did. And he should. Eddie should tell him to leave and come back when he gets his head on right.

Instead, Eddie sighs, stepping back from the man. “Are you okay, Buck? Do you need to, I don’t know, talk about it?”

Buck shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing quick and rough as he groans. He swings a hand out, hitting the wall at his side with a harsh thump. He grits his teeth at Eddie, eyes black and wild. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Eddie. I’m tired of fucking talking! First a therapist. Now Maddie and my parents.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Buck. Just…” Eddie hesitates for fear of sounding a tad too desperate and showing himself, “just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Shut up,” Buck grounds out, eyes shutting tightly.

“No.” And Eddie is proud that the word comes out much more stern than it feels because it feels weak and shaky in his chest, like a soft breeze will blow it over. “Don’t shut me out.”

“Eddie, stop. Stop being—”

“Being what?” Eddie practically yells, incredulous, forgetting about Christopher for a moment. “Stop being what, Buck? Stop being a decent human being and friend that cares about you? Stop being a giant obstacle in your rampage? As long as you’re being dramatic, I’ll be by your side being—”

“Being a pain in my ass!” Buck roars, stepping up to Eddie, shoving his face in Eddie’s. His cheeks are bright red, and his chest is heaving like he’s run a marathon.

Eddie stands his ground. “I will always be a thorn in your fucking side, Evan Buckley.”

Buck groans, throwing his head back in frustration. He stares at the ceiling for a minute then he’s grasping Eddie’s face in his hands tightly and sealing his lips over Eddie’s.

He freezes for a minute, stunned by the direction this has taken. Oddly enough, his mind also drifts back to the million and one shards of glass covering his kitchen floor right now, but he decides that can wait because Evan Buckley is finally kissing him. Buck’s full lips are hot and wet, slanted over Eddie’s like he’s done it a million times before.

It’s the best kiss Eddie’s ever had mainly because Buck is clearly just taking his anger out on him, but he doesn’t stop his body from immediately responding the way it wants to, the way he’s wanted to since the first time he saw Buck.

He snakes an arm around Buck’s shoulders, hand tangling in the hair at the back of his head then lets his other hand rest at Buck’s hip. Buck’s kiss is chaotic and rough, like years and years of pent up anger are being unleashed onto Eddie’s lips. It should feel like a punishment, and in a way it does. It feels like Buck is just using him as a stand in punching bag, and as much as that makes Eddie’s insides roll, he also doesn’t want to give this moment up.

It’s entirely selfish. He’s dreamt of Buck kissing him, touching him, loving him. He’s fantasized about the way it would feel to love Buck and be loved by him. How Eddie’s world would be brighter than ever as long as Buck was by his side, and in a way he always has been.

But this is more. This is a type of more that Eddie is weak for, desperate for, begging for.

Buck’s hands roam over Eddie’s back, pressing them chest to chest, completely flush, and Eddie marvels in the way he can feel Buck’s chest rising and falling, feel the way his heart is beating erratically in his chest, feel the way the muscles in his torso contract heavenly.

“Eddie…” Buck moans into his mouth, and Eddie panics, terrified Buck is going to end this moment before it even starts.

So he drops to his knees right there in the hallway, fingers fumbling with Buck’s jeans even as he berates himself for being so risky with Christopher in the house. The kid could walk out at any second, and there he is…on his knees…scrambling to get Buck’s dick out of his pants…

“Eddie, woah…” Buck is wide eyed above him, staring down at Eddie with a mix of reverence and pure shock.

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures him, finally getting the freaking button undone on his jeans.

He feels desperate. Desperate to make this moment last forever because if this is the only way he’ll be able to have Buck, angry and frustrated at the world, then he wants whatever he can get. And it feels utterly pathetic. It feels like Eddie is taking a battering ram to his own heart over and over again, but how can he stop now? Now that he knows what Buck’s lips feel like on his. Now that he knows what Buck’s hands feel like on his hips.

Hell or high water couldn’t stop him now.

Buck lets out a choked whimper, pulling away from Eddie’s hands. He plasters himself against the wall, and Eddie slumps, sitting back on his heels. He frowns, watching the way Buck is staring at the ceiling again, breathing heavily.

Well, Buck could stop him.

Buck swallows, “Okay…that was…”

“Oh, god,” Eddie murmurs.

Eddie clambers to his feet, taking measured steps away from Buck until he’s back in the kitchen. His face is hot, violently red he’s sure, and he feels mortified. Beyond an acceptable level of embarrassed, and he wants the floor to swallow him whole. He suddenly remembers the whole reason for why he’s never made a move on Buck before. They’re friends. They’re great friends, the best of bests, and that’s hard to find these days.

Somehow though he managed to find a decent friend in Buck, and he doesn’t want to lose that friendship more than he wants a romantic relationship with the man because one option feels like he might potentially have to live life without Buck if it doesn’t work out.

Eddie turns to the counter, wiping at an imaginary smudge before rolling his eyes at his own absurdity and instead setting to work to clean up the actual mess surrounding his feet. He squats to pick up the big pieces, carefully collecting and inspecting more intensely than he should’ve. But Eddie will do anything in this moment to block out the sound of absolute silence behind him… Yes, he needs to block out the silence. It’s a thing.

Eddie has almost convinced himself that Buck left. That he somehow managed to make it out the front door without making any noise at all. No footfall, no squeaky hinges on the front door, no loud engine turning over in the driveway. Eddie has almost let himself really believe that Buck isn’t standing in the hallway still, possibly staring at Eddie pretending he wasn’t about to suck his dick right then and there.

_Dear god… What’s wrong with him?!_

“Eddie…” Buck’s voice is soft behind him, cautious and maybe a tad hopeful, but that could also be Eddie projecting.

When Eddie just hums in response, picking through a section of tiny shards that obviously doesn’t have any bigger chunks, Buck sighs, stepping into the kitchen and crunching glass under his shoes. He squats down beside Eddie and stares at the mess while Eddie tries like hell not to solely watch Buck from his peripheral.

“Eddie,” Buck starts again, and Eddie hates the way his tone has changed front he charged rage only minutes ago. “We should—Do you want to—?”

“I’m going to throw these,” Eddie lifts his cupped hands full of glass chucks in the air, “away. Be right back.”

He doesn’t come right back.

He actually leaves the room entirely, striding to the bathroom, and locking himself inside. It takes ten minutes for Buck to finally go searching for Eddie throughout the house. It takes about thirty seconds for Buck to rattle the bathroom knob, and Eddie can hear his sigh and a thump like he dropped his head onto the door. It takes another ten minutes of Buck softly trying to cajole Eddie out of the room as Eddie himself stares at his _stupid, petulant_ reflection in the mirror before he finally bids Eddie a defeated goodbye and goodnight.

It takes another ten minutes for Eddie to stop banging his head on the wall before he exits the bathroom to find the kitchen restored to its former glory and a note from Buck that he promptly tosses in the trash can.

Ignore it and the problem will go away. Maybe.

——

The problem with the whole “ignore it and the problem will fade away” theory is that it’s really hard to ignore a problem that won’t stop seeking you out. It’s a lot easier to ignore a problem that is also ignoring you. Being on the same page has never been so important to Eddie until he decided to take a break, a long, long break, from Buck and his… _everything_.

——

DAY ONE

 **From Buck, 8:26am:** _we should talk sometime before shift today_

**From Buck, 9:12am:** _you can come over here, i’ll make lunch?_

**From Buck, 12:03pm:** _eddie? cmon man_

——

DAY THREE

**From Buck, 5:12pm:** _okay i get it, no talking, i’m done okay?_

**From Buck, 5:18pm:** _can i come over? i’ll bring pizza_

**From Buck, 7:56pm:** _eddie please stop this_

_——_

DAY FOUR

**From Buck, 6:22am:** _please talk to me_

——

DAY SIX

**From Buck, 1:37am:** _i mis uou tslk to me_

**From Maddie, 1:55am:** _Why is my brother calling me drunk in the middle of the night to tell me his best friend won’t talk to him?_

**From Buck, 1:56am:** _madde said i shuld gibe uou spacde_

**From Buck, 1:58am:** _uour grest kisser_

**From Chim, 2:14am:** _Stop being an asshole to Buck. When Buck is sad, Maddie is sad. Stop it._

——

DAY EIGHT

Eddie rubs at his eyes, sighing.

His phone hasn’t pinged, dinged, buzzed, vibrated, or trilled in two days, which is fine. Eddie is fine with the space that Buck has finally decided to give him. He needs it actually. That’s all he wanted to begin with. He just wanted some time to think about how exactly he’s going to still function after Buck’s inevitable rejection. Eddie doesn’t want to hear the words ‘mistake’, ‘can’t happen again’, or ‘I’m sorry’ fall from Buck’s lips. Anyone else says those things to Eddie, and he can manage. He can move on.

But not from Buck.

There’s no moving on from Evan Buckley.

Eddie’s typing out a long, thorough message to Buck, detailing all his thought processes over the past eight days and all the things he’s too chicken-shit to say to Buck’s face directly, when a loud, harsh banging sounds on his door. It’s rough and angry, a vicious fist slamming on his door, and Eddie scowls, grabbing the spare, unused umbrella out of the canister beside the door before swinging the door wide.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, dropping the umbrella to his side, “it’s you. You scared the shit out of me, man.”

Buck snorts, arms crossed over his chest, “Sorry. Would’ve given you some warning, but you probably would’ve ran away.”

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“You deserve worse,” Buck snarls, cheeks heating.

That’s when Eddie finally takes a moment to actually look at Buck. He’s wearing running shorts, thin and tight around his hips and thighs. Eddie recognizes the t-shirt he’s wearing from one of the 5Ks Buck did in support of CP. The sleeves are cut off now, displaying his bulging arms, glistening with sweat. Like when he first earned the shirt, it’s tighter around his chest but loose around his stomach. Seeing Buck casually wearing a CP shirt makes something warm and sappy swirl in his chest despite everything.

Eddie swallows, unsure what he wants to say now that he’s standing in front of Buck. He was fully prepared two minutes ago to send him a lengthy text message, but now? Now his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth, a lump forming in his throat.

“Can I come in, or are you going to slam the door in my face?”

“No,” Eddie immediately responds then he proceeds to clarify, “No, I won’t slam the door in your face. You can, uh, come in. Yeah.”

Buck pushes his way past Eddie, stomping down the hallway before stopping at _the spot_ where transgressions, bad, bad transgressions, happened last time Buck was here. Then Buck is spinning around, yanking his shirt over his head in one fluid movement.

“Oh, my—okay,” Eddie squawks, eyes wide as he stares at every smooth line of Buck’s torso, cataloguing every dip, every muscle, and tattoo littered over his chest and ribs.

Buck leans back against the wall, legs spread slightly as he tosses the shirt to the floor at his feet. He stares at Eddie, asking, “I’m assuming Chris is at school, right?”

Eddie, still gaping and wide eyed, responds with a nod. He’s pretty sure drool is trailing from his mouth, but he can’t stop himself. His eyes are literally glued to Buck’s bare skin.

“Good,” Buck says, a smug smile crossing his lips. He drops his head back against the wall with a thump, “Let’s finish what we started then.”

Eddie makes a move toward him immediately, body overruling any logical part of his brain that wants to question what the actual fucking is happening. Luckily he takes one step then stops, freezing in place several feet away from where Buck is making himself downright comfy against Eddie’s wall.

Eddie clears his throat, “I—I’m very confused. What’s happening?”

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me, right? You thought I was going to what?” Buck arches a brow. “We can do this and move on. Pretend it never happened.”

Add that to the list of things Eddie never wanted to hear from Buck.

Eddie blinks. Blinks again. Then he moves back to the door, opening it wide. “Actually, I think I take it back. I’d rather slam the door in your face.”

Buck growls, low and clearly frustrated. He scoops his shirt off the floor but doesn’t pull it over his head, and Eddie is both happy about it and upset at himself for being thrilled that he’s not covering up his gorgeous expanse of skin in front of him.

“I can’t read your mind here, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head, trying to find the words to explain to Buck exactly what’s going through his head. “I…”

Buck stomps past Eddie, snarling at him as he passes, “Save it.”

——

Okay, he’s not really sure what he’s doing here.

Well, he knows what he’s doing here. Here being outside Buck’s front door like a creeper. It’s well past midnight, but he can’t stop thinking about earlier that afternoon with Buck.

He was right. The longer Eddie thought about it the more he realized that Buck couldn’t read his mind and know exactly why Eddie was acting so strangely. It was only natural to use context clues and try to form your own conclusion. Usually he wasn’t so confident when confronting someone based on his assumptions, but apparently Buck is _that_ confident.

So he’s standing outside Buck’s apartment at 12:27pm, knocking on the door with his heart in his throat as he waits for Buck to answer the door.

The door swings wide, and Albert blinks at Eddie for a moment with sleepy eyes. They stare at one another for a moment, neither of them saying anything, until Albert scratches at his bare chest, smacking his lips, then shouts “Buck! It’s for you!” loudly up the stairs.

Eddie walks through the door that Albert leaves open as he stumbles up the stairs instead of back into the living room, and he assumes it’s to wake Buck up. But then he hears a thud and footsteps coming down at the same time Albert is going up, so it must have more to do with privacy than anything else.

Buck’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants when he comes into view, walking into the kitchen with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He glances Eddie’s way then opens the fridge, grabbing two waters, and sliding one across the counter to Eddie, but Eddie makes no effort to grab it. He just stares at Buck’s slightly sleep rumpled form, like he wasn’t sleeping. Just laying in bed reading or something.

“Did you need something?” Buck asks, breaking the silence. “It’s late.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah…” He walks closer to Buck then halts a few feet away, keeping ample space between them just in case. “I just… I wasn’t avoiding you because I wanted to just…have sex and forget about it… The opposite actually.”

Buck frowns, the wheels turning at half speed in his head. “So you didn’t want to have sex with me? That’s why you—”

“No,” Eddie stops him, “I wanted— _want_ —to have sex with you. _Oh my god._ I just didn’t want to pretend it never happened afterward.”

Buck nods slowly. “So you want to be, like, friends with benefits?”

Eddie groans, scrubbing his hands through his hair roughly. “Will you just stop trying to guess? Because you suck at it.”

“Okay. Just spit it out then. Jesus, Eddie, Chris tells a story faster than you.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, smiling at Buck’s pinched expression. He’s focused, completely intent on interpreting Eddie’s words correctly even though he’s gotten it wrong three times now. This is the man Eddie loves. This is the man Eddie is totally in love with.

Now how does he tell him that in a way he’ll understand…

Oh. _Oh._

Eddie inhales, a surge of nerves bursting through him, “I love you.”

Buck stares.

Eddie tries again, fingers twitching at his sides, “I am in love with you.”

Buck blinks.

Eddie swallows thickly, a certain level of discomfort reaching its threshold within him, “I love you, Evan Buckley. Big, gay love.”

Buck frowns, thinking, “So you’re telling me you love me? Like not as a friend?”

Eddie laughs, disbelieving, “Dear god, yes! I’m pretty sure that’s what “big, gay love” means in this instance, man.”

“So you want to be…my boyfriend?” Buck questions.

“I…” Eddie hesitates, “I want whatever you’re comfortable giving me. Even if it’s just friendship.”

Buck blinks again. “You love me?”

“Okay, should I leave? Give you a day or two to process? Maybe let you have a cup of coffee or two first?”

“Nah,” Buck dismisses, “I love you, too.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to blink now. Not once or twice, but like, six times.

“You…” Eddie flounders then levels Buck with his signature feathers glare that he usually reserves for rare moments with Christopher. “Don’t lie, or, or just tell me whatever you think I want to hear…or whatever you think will get you into my pants.”

“Woah,” Buck says, cautiously, “you do remember it was _you_ trying to get in my pants, right?”

Eddie makes an affronted noise, something weirdly between offended and embarrassed and happy that Buck is willingly bringing up _the incident_ without prompting by Eddie, which honestly isn’t a big feat considering it was Eddie who ran away every time Buck tried to talk about it.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the feel of Buck’s hot, heavy hand trailing over his shoulder then down his arm, fingering flexing against the sentiment areas of Eddie’s arm, and Eddie shivers a little. Buck’s fingers wrap around Eddie’s, intertwining messily with Eddie’s fingers. It’s sloppy and disorganized, a few fingers separated from the interlocking, but Eddie kind of loves it, lips quirking shyly as he stares down at their joined hands.

Buck smiles softly, “I love you, Eddie.”

“ _What the hell,_ ” Eddie whispers more to himself than anyone else really.

Buck shrugs, still grinning. “You’re the one who decided to run from me.”

Eddie swallows, “I thought—it doesn’t matter. I…I really want to kiss you.”

“Okay,” Buck breathes, “I wont stop you.”

So Eddie does.

He kisses him the way he wishes he would’ve over a week ago when he first felt Buck’s lips move against his. He slants his lips over Buck’s, hands cradling Buck’s face softly, and Buck moans immediately against Eddie, hands coming up to wrap around and hold Eddie’s wrist, finger flexing as Eddie opens his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of Buck’s lips. And when Buck’s mouth opens, Eddie slips his tongue inside, licking and devouring Buck’s mouth so thoroughly his pants are tenting.

Buck’s hands drift over Eddie’s shoulders, down his back, which causes Eddie to arch closer into Buck’s body, and then over the swell of his ass, gripping his backside as Eddie suddenly realizes Buck is completely in control now. It’s Buck’s tongue in Eddie’s mouth, his hands hauling him closer into Buck’s warm body, his lips kissing Eddie’s until they’re red and swollen and tender.

“Can you take it upstairs before I throw up everywhere?”

Eddie springs away from Buck, clearing his throat awkwardly as Albert literally walks through the small space between Buck and Eddie’s bodies like he has no concept of privacy. Buck groans, pushing at Albert as he halts between the two of them, casting them both a disgusted look, and Eddie blushes furiously.

Then Buck grabs his hand again, the same sloppy hand holding as a few minutes ago, and Eddie might love it even more the second time around. He might also love Buck a little more as he leads Eddie upstairs, tossing a smile over his shoulder.

He shouts down at Albert, “You should find some ear plugs, Albert.”

“Yeah, upstairs,” Eddie murmurs to himself with a disbelieving smile. “Good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me on tumblr... i’m not really on much right now, but still...  
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/


End file.
